wish upon a star
by IconofSelfIndulgence
Summary: Thomas and Edward have run off to Ireland with Sybil and Branson. This is the story about how Thomas wishes upon a star, and Edward regains his sight. Cheesy. Little smutty.


A/N: Since I'm having trouble with _tears as ransom_, I took a prompt request on tumblr (find me at notfoul-barrow). Here's some Thomas/Edward fluffy stuff, with Sybil and Branson and joy and happiness.

* * *

"_There is a infinitesimal chance that his sight _can_ come back," Dr. Clarkson had said, eyes narrowed at the Corporal before him. "I wouldn't get your—or his—hopes up, Corporal Barrow."_

"_But there _is_ a chance." Thomas responded, "Do you have any optometry books I could read, Major?" _

_Clarkson raised a brow but nodded. "Do it in your spare time, Barrow. I don't want to see you with a book in hand while you should be working." _

Thomas had done a lot of reading about how the eyes worked, how to operate on eyes, how to treat different diseases—and so on and so forth. He'd even gotten Edward to try some kooky things that he'd come up with based on his observations. None of them worked, but Edward got a good laugh as he heard Thomas making concoctions like a scientist. It was wonderful to hear him laugh; his demeanor had changed so much since those hospital days. Thomas had been brave one day and kissed him when they were alone, and Edward responded eagerly. The rest was history.

They were living together now, happily, in Ireland. Sybil had convinced them to come when she ran off with Branson to get married, and the four of them became best friends. Of course, Edward and Thomas had to be careful, but no one really paid them any mind and seemed to believe the whole 'Thomas was Edward's nurse' sort of thing. Edward worked around the farms as some sort of savant; Thomas didn't know what to call it really, but he knew how to tell the farmers how to better their harvest with just a smell of fertilizer and a taste of fruit. The former footman, on the other hand, worked at the local clockmaker's shop, assisting in mending clocks and even began building a couple of his own.

At the end of the day, Edward would have someone bring him to the shop, and the two would either walk home arm and arm or they would go to the pub for dinner. Thomas found that he honestly didn't mind taking care of Edward; he felt as if this was what he was meant to do. He was so blindly in love with the wounded soldier that it scared him. But he was so bloody happy that he smiled every day. Anyone from Downton would have been honestly shocked by his change in attitude, but Sybil said it made him look even more handsome.

He had never known what it was like to feel this kind of joy, and he thanked whatever God there was every day for sending Edward to him so that he could see a brighter future.

* * *

Thomas stood outside, smoking a cigarette late one night, standing with his neighbor. She smiled at him, stomach plump with child. He cleared his throat. "Isn't this bad for the pregnancy?" Thomas asked, eying Sybil with a smirk as if they both hadn't had medical training (not that Thomas Barrow was an expert on antenatal care).

"Isn't that bad for your lungs?" She retorted, and Thomas had to give her that one. Damn. She was a clever little thing, and he knew if he were rooting for the other team, he would have been in love with her. Well, he _was_ in love with her, but in a different way than Tom loved her.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Touché."

They stood there in silence, gazing up at the stars. Thomas couldn't help but think at how far they both had come. He could still remember that day where she'd reprimanded him for calling her Lady Sybil while on duty. It was after that they became friends, because she wanted to be known by her occupation, not her economic status. Just like he had wanted to be called Corporal (and later, Sergeant). She spoke more than he did while they had lunch or took a walk or were tending to a patient, but soon he opened up to her. She told him that he had been so scared for Edward's wellbeing, to which she responded:

"_Oh, Thomas, I really think he's just waiting for you to kiss him already."_

It was thanks to her that Edward was alive now, and thanks to her that he was so very happy and in love, so he couldn't help but love her like a sister of his own. Fuck Mary, fuck Edith. They didn't deserve such a kind being as a sibling.

"This is so unreal," She said after a while. "Here we are, far away from where both of us lived for nearly our whole lives—" She paused, but Thomas only nodded, knowing what she meant, "It's so strange. Did you ever think about running away from home before?"

Thomas grimaced at the statement, nearly choking on his cigarette. Home was always a sore topic for him. "Didn't have to _think _about it."

She turned to him, blue eyes full of concern. "Oh, Thomas, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

He held up his hand. "It was years ago, and I honestly didn't live too far away from Ripon. It was a wonder I didn't become a hall boy at Downton when I first started service." He exhaled a drag, "But that was entirely different. This—this is something magical. I feel as if I'm in a dream."

Thomas suddenly jerked away from her, rubbing his arm. "Ow! What the bloody hell, Sybil?"

"I was just pinching you to make sure you _weren't_." Sybil said mischievously. Edward did say that he was rubbing off on her.

He pouted, which only resulted in her laughter. Thomas couldn't not smile at her. Damn again. What had she and Edward done to him? They had taken his cold heart and made him feel warm and loved. Even Tom was a real sport, treating him like a friend. He'd even helped the man by stopping him from making the worst choice of his life. (Yes, even though Thomas was all for the power of the working class, going to burn down some ancient mansion was_ not_ the best idea. Tom soon realized how idiotic it was to endanger his _pregnant wife_ to go do something that would surely get him _arrested._ Ever since, they were best buds.) He laughed with her, shaking his head.

"Cheeky little thing, you are. Had I known you were like this, we would have been friends year ago."

At this, Sybil reached out her hand and grabbed his wrist, brushing her thumb against it. "I'm so very glad we became friends, Thomas." Those eyes of hers were sparkling just like the stars. "Speaking of dreams and miracles, the only thing that would make this perfect would be if dear Edward's eyes healed."

"Oh, he's happy like this now." Thomas swallowed, knowing he was blushing. "The farmers have given him purpose, and s'like he's got supernatural powers for growing crops. They call him the farm guru. I'm sure they'll be making a religion for him soon amongst poor farmers across Ireland. The Church of Edward."

"That does have an awfully nice ring to it," said the Edward behind them. Thomas turned to see him standing in the doorway of their home, leaning against it, smiling in their direction. He looked so good, so healthy, so unlike he had lying in that hospital bed when he hated the world. "I was wondering where you'd gone off too. Is that you, Sybil?"

"It is, Edward. How are you?"

"Quite well. Apparently a deity now. I have felt rather otherworldly lately." Edward chuckled.

"Might as well be." Thomas said, glancing over his shoulder. "I bet they've got shrines to you and everythin'. Wouldn't be surprised if they knit little Edward dolls for their children."

"Heaven forbid," Edward ran his fingers through his hair. "If they are, you _would_ let me know, right? Wouldn't want to cause heresy now amongst the Catholics. They might burn me at the stake for that."

"Saint Edward the martyr." The ebony haired man wrinkled his nose. "No, I don't quite like the sound of that."

"Look at what you've gone and done." Sybil chimed up to his right. "Be careful. Edward just might change his mind if you feed his ego like that, Thomas." She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek before walking down to Edward and doing the same. "Well, I must be off. I'm sure Tom's hungry after a long day's work. Good night, my lovelies."

"Good night, Sybil. We must have dinner together, soon. Tommy here knows how to roast a chicken like no other."

Thomas knew Edward couldn't see him glaring daggers in his direction, but he had a shit-eating grin on his face like he could sense it. That little shit! Sybil covered her mouth to mask her laugh. "Give Tom our regards," Thomas murmured, knowing how red his face must have been. He'd get Edward back for that later.

"I most certainly will do—_oh!_" Sybil cried out suddenly, looking at the sky.

"What? What's the matter?" Edward asked, taking a step forward.

But Thomas could see it, too, and stared with his mouth slightly agape. He'd never seen anything so magnificent in his life (except Edward, of course.)

"It's a shooting star, Edward! Make a wish, everyone!"

He squeezed his eyes and made his wish, his hands curling into fists at his sides. _Please, please, please…_

* * *

They were curled in bed that night. Edward's head lay against Thomas' bare chest, and he brushed his fingers over the thin hairs upon it. In return, the older man stroked his hair, though he could sense how tired his love was just by how lethargic his movements were. "Are you all right, Thomas?"

"Just fine, love," He yawned before nuzzling his nose into those lovable curls. "Though someone did tire me out earlier."

Edward laughed and pressed a kiss to his side. "I make no apologies for that." If only he could see that pleasantly tired look upon his lover's face. That was the one thing that bothered him most about their relationship. Of course, he didn't _need_ to see Thomas' face to love him, but it would have been nice. He had so many different images in his head for Thomas, each different and unique depending on the situation. Once before, he asked the older man to describe himself, but it didn't help much.

"_I've – er – I've got black hair. Greyish blue eyes. I'm quite – er – pale, too. Average build and height. Some have told me I'm handsome, but—"_

"_Oh, Thomas, you're shite at this." Edward had pouted. "Absolutely horrid. Come here." And Edward took the other man's face in his hands, at first mapping it out with his fingers. Thomas gasped as those fingers gently grazed his skin, and he was quite sure that Edward was doing this on purpose to get him roused. Though the blind man soon changed tactics and used his mouth to go over his pale skin, leaving little kisses here and there, before claiming Thomas' mouth—which led to a very exciting snogging session. _

He heard Thomas' soft breathing above him and realized the other man had dozed off while he relived the memory. Edward smiled fondly and held him closer, feeling so blessed, so honored to have this man by his side. The others at Downton had warned him that Thomas was not a good person, that he was cruel and mean, but he never saw those awful traits. He had been an absolute angel, and Edward would have him thought of in no other way.

Edward too slowly drifted off to sleep, lulled into a deep slumber by the rhythmic beating of Thomas' heart.

He awoke first that morning with a yawn and woke up to see a white ceiling above his head. Edward's brows furrowed; he was so used to seeing black that—

Wait. Wait, wait—he could _see_ the ceiling. He sat up slowly, full of awe, as he took in the surroundings of the room. It was quaint, with two small dressers, a closet, the table next to bed with a lamp, and the curtains masking the sun from the view. Edward rubbed his eyes. He couldn't believe this. Was he still dreaming?

He slowly turned to see the other individual in bed who was still lost in his dreams. The lovely creature before him was beautiful with his chiseled face and prominent cheekbones, his porcelain skin and dark eyelashes and wine-colored lips. His ebony hair was loose against his forehead, and hair of the same color was dusted across his chest. Edward brushed his hand against it, taking in the sight before him. _This_ was Thomas Barrow. He was in love with a siren. Then again, he didn't care, because he would let Thomas bring him to the ends of the earth.

Edward couldn't help himself. He pressed gentle kisses along the skin, no longer having to _feel_ for them. He could see everything, the way Thomas reacted, leaning closer to him even in his sleep, the way the sun hit his face, seemingly making him glow in their white sheets. Edward leaned in, catching his lips into a kiss, pulling Thomas from his sleep. He watched as the older man's eyes fluttered open and glanced up at him with their light blue hue. Edward deepened the kiss, brushing his fingers along his lover's cheek.

Thomas was watching him with a sleepy curiosity, since Edward was not known for his pleasant mornings. Though there was something different about this man before him; he was too distracted right now to figure out what. He finally pulled away for breath and let out a yawn, reaching up to brush his fingers through Edward's curls. "What's gotten into you this morning?"

"You lied to me." Edward said firmly in spite of the fact he was still caressing Thomas' face.

"Sorry?" Thomas' brow rose. Edward watched delightfully. He had a feeling Thomas made the best facial expressions, and he would be eager to learn all of them.

"You told me that you were average." Edward leaned in, pecking his lips again. "But you lied to me. What I see here before me is an angel. You can't seriously be real. Nothing so beautiful exists."

"What?" Thomas sat up, concern written in his knit eyebrows. "Have you gone mad, love?"

But that's when he realized that Edward's eyes were focused and looking directly at him. There was no blank stare; it was cognizant and taking in every detail he could muster. In other words, Edward could _see_ him and was staring and—

Thomas suddenly turned fifty shades of red and covered his face with the blanket. "You can't be _serious_—"

Edward pouted and tugged it down, "But I am! And don't hide. This is the first time I've ever seen you, Thomas! Let me admire you for Christ's sake, you handsome thing, you." He tugged at the blanket until Thomas let go. He took the bashful man's face in his hands and watched as those lips turned into a pout. It was extraordinary, a true miracle.

And then Edward wanted to see what that face looked like twisted with lust and want for _him._ He wanted to see Thomas undone by his own doing; he wanted to see how he looked at him with love and devotion afterward, that tired smile he always imagined at night. He could feel the way Thomas looked at him back then, and now he wanted to see it. The brunette smirked deviously and leaned forward, capturing Thomas' lips again, before moving down to his neck and lower and lower—

"Edward, wait, shouldn't we go visit the doctor—_oh!_"

Edward had thrown off the sheets and was now in between his lover's legs, hand wrapped around Thomas' morning wood. He hummed, rubbing his thumb against the tip, marveling at it. He then watched Thomas' face, seeing the blush had receded down to his neck as Edward began to pump the hardened member. He had heard those wonderful little noises Thomas made before, but accompanied by the other's facial expression, that overwhelming adoration and need and _want_ encompassed in his eyes, made Edward feel like a child who'd just opened a present they really wanted on Christmas.

Edward decided to spare Thomas of losing all control before work, though, and let him off easy with a hand job. He did, however, lap up the mess with his tongue, making Thomas hate the fact that he couldn't just _not_ go to work today and explore this new eagerness Edward had toward sex. The younger leaned in and kissed him again, pressing his forehead against Thomas'.

"It's a miracle." He found himself murmuring, staring intently into those eyes he knew he would able to stare into the rest of his life. "A true miracle."

"You're telling me." Thomas said in disbelief, but then he smiled softly and kissed Edward once more, chastely, whilst saying _thank you_ to whoever answered his wish.

* * *

Later that day, Edward strolled over to the Bransons without the cane. He knocked on the door, waiting, a little anxious to see what Sybil looked like. When the beautiful young, pregnant women with a lovely round face and such kind eyes opened the door, he realized that he imagined her the same way in his mind.

"Edward?" She asked, surprised, as he just stared. But then she realized he was _staring_ at her, the same way Thomas had the revelation this morning. "Oh goodness, can you—"

"Yes." Edward said and then pulled her into a hug. "God, Sybil, you're so beautiful! Has anyone told you that before," And then he pulled away, cupping her face, too. It was almost uncanny, he realized, how similar Sybil and Thomas looked. "Wait, are you and Thomas really related? I mean, I know that's the story you tell people, but…"

"I promise we're not. Though I agree, the resemblance is uncanny." Sybil smiled widely and stepped aside to let him in. "Oh, darling, come see what we've done with the place. You can look all you want. And then we can go see the gardens." She already was making a list of places to take Edward, places that she knew he would enjoy when he saw them.

"And Sybil," He said, interrupting her for just a moment, "I still expect you to come eat Tommy's cooking tonight." He grinned as she laughed and nodded. "Though I'll be the one cooking soon," He leaned in to whisper, "It'll be the best thing for everyone." With that, the two were lost in a fit of giggles before she dragged him off to go see the town.

A whole new world was ahead for Edward, and he planned to take advantage of it.


End file.
